


Coffee and Hot Chocolate

by Kaleid369



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Coffee, Coffee Shops, Fluffy Ending, Gunshot Wounds, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Winter, kaishin - Freeform, pre-kaishin, snowy days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-10 00:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8918743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaleid369/pseuds/Kaleid369
Summary: Kaito doesn't remember why he approached Edogawa Conan in the first place but, as he sips his hot chocolate and stares at Conan's reflection in the window of the coffee shop, he finds that he doesn't regret it.•[Kaitou KID | Kuroba Kaito/Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan]Merry Christmas!





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally for a small Tumblr event (dcmk-secretsanta), but why not post it here, too? 
> 
> I do not own Detective Conan, Magic Kaito, or any of the characters. I do, however, own this work and plagiarism will not be tolerated.
> 
> THIS PROBABLY WON'T BE PROOFREAD LOLZ

* * *

The first thing Kaito notices when he opens the front door is the blast of cold air that hits him in the face and sends a shiver down his spine.  
  
Ever since the last week of November began, the weather had been getting colder and colder. Kaito doesn't have anything against winter, but would it _kill it_ to tone it down a few notches? Spending ten minutes outside makes his hands stiff and freezing, and he's a _magician_. His hands are _important._

(And he _really_ wants to continue his weekly performances at the park; he wouldn't want to disappoint.)

He burrows further into his jacket, blowing out a puff of air and watching it. He tightens his scarf, stuffs his hands into his pockets, and then continues down the street.

It's about eight at night, but he doesn't want to be at home. It's too quiet there; there isn't any background noise and it bothers Kaito.

(It's lonely by himself in his huge, empty house.)

The magician turns a corner, and multicolored lights fill his vision.

It's only November 29, yet decorations are up everywhere. Christmas lights, small snowmen, candy canes, and snowflakes are hanging in front of and inside stores, restaurants, and other small businesses. Christmas trees are set up within them, too, and the stores already have every Christmas-themed product in stock.

The route Kaito’s on is especially blinding, since it's a busy road with cars honking and headlights shining.

Kaito walks into a café, the little bell ringing and signaling a customer's arrival. The door shuts behind him and the noise outside dulls and fades. He's met with warmth and quiet classical music. There are quiet voices and papers crinkling and glass mugs and plates clinking.

Kaito loves this café.

The female behind the counter looks up, smiling when she sees him and he smiles back.

He's frequented this place so many times that the workers have his name and order memorized. Because of this, everyone just waves him off and lets him take a seat while he waits for his name to be called. He takes a seat in the back where it's dark and he has a view of everything and everyone.

There aren't many people here. There's an old woman staring out the window with a mug held in both hands; a teenage girl— _maybe a freshman?_ —reading a novel and taking occasional sips from her drink; a group of college students chatting ( _Probably a reunion,_ Kaito thinks when another one walks in and approaches the table, only to be engulfed in hugs and laughter); a businessman with a cup of coffee in front of him, typing away on his laptop, the click-clacking of keys making Kaito smile.

“Kuroba Kaito- _san,_ ” a worker calls his name and he stands up, making his way to the counter.

He places the correct amount of yen down and takes the large mug, giving her his thanks and turns to walk back to where he was sitting.

Except, it seems he's missed someone because, when he turns, he sees _Edogawa Conan_ at a booth with a mug to his lips and eyes closed peacefully. The booth had blocked his view of the small not-child earlier when Kaito had been observing the other customers.

The thief pauses half-step, staring at the booth for a short moment before walking in its direction.

Conan doesn't notice him at first, too focused on the warmth of his drink, so Kaito just watches him.

The not-child is small for his (not real) age. He is pale and there are bags under his eyes, as if he hasn't gotten sleep for several days. He has small hands and neatly clipped fingernails, and then Kaito looks at his face again.

Conan doesn't have his glasses on; they're sitting on the table. His eyelashes are long and his cheeks are pinkish.

And then he's suddenly met with azure eyes.

“Nii- _san_ , why are you sitting here?” Conan asks, a sharp gaze aimed at Kaito, and Kaito knows that Conan is trying to decide whether or not he's a threat.

“Well,” Kaito says quietly, “you seemed lonely. Children shouldn't look so tired or old.” He flashes the detective a grin. “We're too young for that, wouldn't you agree?”

This only makes the shrunken teen narrow his eyes.

The magician sighs internally before pulling a white rose out of nowhere and holds it up to Conan.

“My name is Kuroba Kaito, magician extraordinaire,” he introduces himself, and hides a wince behind his poker face because _what did he just do?_

It seems to do the trick, though, because Conan’s gaze softens and he takes the flower. “Nice to meet you. I'm Edogawa Conan.”

“I know!” Kaito chirps cheerfully.

This time, the little detective raises an eyebrow. Then he says loudly, “Nii- _san_ , you're _weird._ ”

And, for some reason, Kaito suddenly feels like laughing until his face hurts. 

* * *

The next time Kaito sees Conan, is when he's at a heist as KID.

“Tantei- _kun_ , let's not get hasty here,” KID says nervously, waving his hands in front of him.

“Kaitou KID- _san_ ,” Conan calls, voice dangerously sweet, “ _give me back my glasses._ ”

“And why do you think _I_ took them?”

Conan just crouches and touches the side of his shoe, and Kaito knows what's coming.

“Wait, wait, _waaaait_ , please don't!”

The detective pauses expectantly, and Kaito steps towards him cautiously, silently praying that he doesn't get a soccer ball to the gut. He takes out the glasses as Conan looks up at the sound of footsteps, and slowly places them on the detective’s face.

He smiles slightly. “Here,” he says softy.

The not-child opens his mouth to say something—

“ _Kaitou KID!_ ” Nakamori Ginzou yells at the top of his lungs, and KID immediately steps back from the boy.

“Bye bye, Tantei- _kun_ ~!” he chirps and somersaults off the roof, and Conan seems to remember that they're in the middle of a heist because he suddenly stands up and presses a hand to his belt.

Seconds later, a soccer ball shoots past KID’s head, scaring him to death.

It really makes Kaito wonder why he likes teasing the little detective so much. 

* * *

It seems like Conan is always meeting Kaito, or Kaito is always meeting Conan at the café because Kaito’s seen Conan three times in the time span of five days (and, every time, Kaito sits with him).

He doesn't know if he should be worried or delighted.

“Conan- _kun,_ it's late. Why are you always here?” It's the first time Kaito’s thought to ask.

( _And you live in Beika, not Ekoda,_ Kaito thinks.)

Conan only shrugs. “I like this café.” He takes a sip from his mug. Again, his glasses are off and on the table.

Kaito snorts. “You could always go earlier in the day,” he points out.

The detective sets his drink down this time. “It doesn't...feel the same,” he replies slowly, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted.

“Hm, alright.” 

* * *

It's an eventful two weeks, full of coffee shop meetings with a detective and heist planning and Christmas plans. Kaito thinks this is the best Christmastime he's had in awhile.

He's learned a lot of things during this time.

Like how Conan hates how the steam from his drink always fogs up his glasses, or how he has a habit of putting a hand over his mouth when he's thinking hard, or how his favorite color is blue, or how he loves ciphers—

Kaito has learned a lot, and everything he's learned is about his favorite detective.

 _I wonder what Conan thinks of me?_ he muses, the thought of _I probably shouldn't be thinking about him during a heist_ floating around in the back of his mind.

“Seems you were too slow, _Keibu_ ~!” KID says, a wide smirk on his face as he holds the jewel above his head. He frowns when he realizes the moon is behind the clouds.

 _I'll just have to check it later,_ KID hums, tucking the jewel into his shirt.

“ _Kaitou KID!_ ”

The thief has to hold back his snickers, suspecting that the inspector has fallen into one of his traps.

“When's Tantei- _kun_ going to get here?” Kaito sighs. “He's usually here by now.”

He spends some time humming, maybe a few minutes, before the door slams open.

Kaito immediately turns, flashing a smirk at the little detective. “What took you so long, Tantei- _kun_? Don't tell me you're losing your—”

He hears a whistling sound, but it's too late. There's a burst of pain in the right part of his abdomen and he gasps loudly, immediately crouching and wrapping a hand around the wound to put some pressure on it. He grabs onto the ledge of the roof with a grunt and tries to breathe.

( _Breathe, breathe, you need to_ **_breathe._** _)_

Kaito is vaguely aware of Conan running towards him with wide eyes full of panic, can vaguely feel Conan’s body shaking when he grabs hold of Kaito.

“No, no, _no_ ,” he hears Conan mutter with a shaky voice. “No one is supposed to get _hurt_.” It takes Kaito a minute to process that Conan is _scared_.

Kaito is reaching for his phone, and he's handing it to Conan, and telling him to call Jii.

And then it is dark. 

* * *

He feels hands pushing on his stomach. _Why…?_

There's someone shouting, voice panicked and scared. _Is he trembling…?_

“ _Hurry!_ ” 

* * *

“He's fine, Kudou- _kun,_ ” a voice says. _Female?_ “The bullet went straight through and didn't hit anything vital. He needs rest and, when he wakes up, food and water.” _Footsteps._ “He might want to take it easy, though. Honestly, Kudou- _kun_ , what do you get yourself into?”

_Silence._

* * *

“ _Wake up already, damn thief_ …” 

* * *

_Tired._

That's the first thing Kaito feels, and then he's aching. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“ _Bocchama,_ you're awake!”

“Jii- _chan_ …?” Kaito croaks, wincing at the sound of his voice and the feel of talking.

Jii helps him sit up before bringing a glass to his lips. Kaito sips, the water relieving him and he sighs.

Jii pours more water into the glass and repeats the process, and Kaito is suddenly aware of the pain in his side.

“How...did I get here?”

“Edogawa Conan called me. You couldn't go to a hospital so he told me to take you to a friend of his. While you were sleeping, I took you back.” Jii pauses, glancing at the magician. “Edogawa- _kun_ was worried. He visited earlier, actually, while you were sleeping. And Aoko- _kun_ has been wondering about your whereabouts.”

“I see… Thanks, Jii,” Kaito mumbles, and he's lying down again, slipping into sleep.

(He dreams of terrified eyes behind shining glasses and shaking hands and a deep red.) 

* * *

Kaito is jittery all throughout school, dodging Aoko’s questions about where he's been with vague answers, too caught up in thoughts to attack classmates with pranks (he can _feel_ Hakuba’s gaze on him, both worried and suspicious), and making excuses as to why he can't hang out with Aoko—and he _hopes_ Conan is at the café.

He leaves his house at seven and walks slowly, careful not to agitate his bullet wound. He watches lights blur in and out as he focuses on one thing and another.

He gets to the café at about 7:35 and takes a seat at the booth he usually takes with Conan. Six minutes later, a mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows is placed in front of him.

“Kuroba- _san_ , you haven't been here for the past few days; we were all worried!” the barista tells him and studies his face. “You seem pale. Were you sick?”

Kaito smiles uncertainly. “Something like that.”

She doesn't seem to notice because she continues, “Edogawa- _kun_ was here everyday you were out, though, and he worried a lot. He kept glancing at the door whenever someone came in and frowned when it wasn't you.”

“Oh, really?” _Interesting._ “Thank you.”

“You better apologize to him!” she chides before leaving him to himself.

Kaito checks the time. _7:53._ He takes a sip of his hot chocolate, sighing contently when the warmth travels to his body. He closes his eyes and leans back in his seat. He focuses on the soft music that floats through the café, humming to it quietly.

It's a few minutes later when he feels his seat shift and his eyes snap open. He turns to see Conan sitting beside him, staring right back. They both open their mouths to speak.

“I've always known you were KID,” Conan murmurs at a volume for only Kaito to hear.

Kaito freezes, closes his mouth, and then grins crookedly. “I'd be worried if you hadn't. Since when, though?”

“I suspected it when you first spoke to me,” Conan explains, voice quiet, “but it was confirmed when you gave me the rose.”

“Why were you here by yourself in Ekoda, then?” Kaito asks. “You live in Beika.”

“I needed to be by myself. You don't get a lot of alone time when you're a kid.”

“And? Why did you keep coming back so often?” he presses on.

The little detective runs a hand through his hair, rubbing his eyes as the barista comes back with a mug and places it in front of Conan. He gives his thanks and takes a sip, sighing and taking off his glasses.

“I was curious,” Conan admits. “Why would Kaitou KID be at a café in the evening by himself? Why would he approach me, a detective?” he says in a low voice. “... And what kind of person is the Kaitou KID behind the mask?”

“Hm? Were you disappointed?”

Conan looks at him with a strange expression that Kaito can't figure out before smirking a little. “I can't say that I was.”

“Well, Tantei- _kun_ , what are you going to do now that you know KID’s civilian identity?” the thief questions.

“Well…” The not-child turns to him fully with a small smile. “Nice to meet you. My name is Kudou Shinichi.”

Kaito grins widely. “Nice to meet you, Shinichi. Call me Kaito.” He ruffles Conan’s hair for a second, somewhat surprised at how soft it is, and leaves his hand resting on his head.

Conan just leans into him and mumbles, “You scared me.”

Kaito chuckles. “ _Gomen, gomen_.”

“You better not do it again.”

“I'll try my best, _Meitantei._ ” 

* * *

There are many more days spent together, the two with their usual drinks and talk about anything.

There's a small lapse in their conversation, so Kaito watches blurred lights through the window.

Kaito doesn't remember why he approached Edogawa Conan in the first place but, as he sips his hot chocolate and stares at Conan's reflection in the window of the coffee shop, he finds that he doesn't regret it.

“What's with that creepy smile?”

There are snowflakes falling to Earth slowly, Kaito sees just barely, and he simply replies, “It's snowing.”

(Kaito doesn't want Conan to know he was thinking about him. After all, how _weird_ would _that_ be?) 

* * *

On Christmas Eve, Kaito and Shinichi are both busy. Kaito celebrates with Aoko and Nakamori, and facetimes his mother to wish her a Merry Christmas. Shinichi is busy with Ran and Mouri, as well as Ran’s plans to get Mouri and Eri back together.

They _do_ spend Christmas Day together at the café.

“Merry Christmas, _Meitantei,_ ” Kaito greets Shinichi cheerfully.

“Merry Christmas, stupid thief.”

“Aw, couldn't you be nicer to me?”

Shinichi snorts. “Not possible.”

“So mean!”

“Hn.”

Kaito sticks his tongue out at the detective. “And to think you were my favorite detective.”

“I _am_ your favorite detective,” Shinichi replies. “You've stated it on multiple occasions.”

“Details, details…”

Their drinks are placed on the table and they take sips, sighing at the same time. Except, Kaito watches Shinichi as he drinks from his mug.

It only now occurs to him that he doesn't know what the detective’s favorite drink is, and that…

Kaito should _know_ what makes Conan look so content, what makes Shinichi _smile_ like that.

“You're staring again,” Shinichi points out for the second time, an eyebrow raised.

Kaito just brings his mug to his lips, focusing only on the hot liquid. Heart pounding, a blush crawling up his neck—

 _Well, fuck,_ Kaito thinks, dazed. _I like him._

Should he be concerned with how okay he is with this? 

* * *

The next day, Shinichi doesn't show up at the café.

Kaito feels out of place. Funny, how he used to sit at this café alone, only to now feel strange without someone with him.

Shinichi’s absence bothers him more than it should, but Kaito’s already here so he drinks his mug of hot chocolate slowly, hoping Shinichi walks in and apologizes for being late.

Shinichi doesn't walk in, and Shinichi doesn't apologize for his lateness, and Kaito is alone.

* * *

When Shinichi doesn't show up again, Kaito begins to worry.

_What if something happened? Should I look for him? Where is he?_

Shinichi doesn't walk into the café, and Kaito gets home at eleven o’clock that night. 

* * *

Kaito walks into the café at eight o’clock, the small bell chiming to signal his arrival. It has become a muscle memory, to turn and walk to the booth where he and Conan always sit.

Except—

Kaito pauses mid-step, eyes widening a fraction before he continues walking, only faster this time. He stops in front of the table.

“Merry Christmas,” the _very_ familiar looking person in front of him greets, trying for a smile.

“You...how...is this why you've been gone?!” Kaito asks, voice loud.

The male in front of him raises an eyebrow. “Quiet down.”

“Answer the question—”

“My name is Kudou Shinichi,” he interrupts, “and it's nice to _officially_ meet you.”

Kaito’s mouth hangs open for a second before he's able to speak. “Well, _Meitantei_ ,” Kaito drawls out with a smirk, “you're two days late.”

Shinichi rolls his eyes. “Just sit down, Kaito.”

“You _jerk_ ,” the thief grumbles, taking a seat beside the detective.

“Hey, I got my body back,” Shinichi says in a whisper, “and it took me two days to recover from the _sudden_ and _painful_ growth spurt, so shut up.”

Kaito opens his mouth to retort but their drinks arrive and he turns to the barista to thank her instead. When she leaves, he takes a sip of his hot chocolate. He stares at Shinichi, suddenly _very_ glad he took the two days to recover from the regrowth.

Shinichi is about Kaito’s height, and they have the same body build except Shinichi is a bit more muscular—probably from all those years of soccer. His fingernails are neatly clipped, but Kaito can see a small scar on his finger ( _a cut, maybe?_ ).

Shinichi’s face is similar to Kaito’s except for a few small differences you'd have to observe closely to notice. His hair is significantly neater and a little darker than Kaito’s, and the cowlick is still there. His eyelashes are long and his eyes—

Kaito is almost certain that they are azure, and he thinks it's the best shade of blue he's ever seen.

“You're staring again,” Shinichi tells him.

“Hey, Shinichi, have you been ordering the same drink?” Kaito asks, curious.

“Yeah, why?”

“Can I have a taste?”

The detective raises an eyebrow at him. “Sure…?”

Kaito stares at Shinichi for a moment, making a split-second decision. Before either of them realize it, Kaito has his lips pressed against Shinichi’s.

 _He's warm,_ Kaito thinks distantly, _and he tastes like coffee._

Kaito forgets that they both need to breathe and, when he remembers, he pulls away slowly. He stills a few inches away from Shinichi’s face, whose cheeks have gone a light pink.

“Merry Christmas,” Kaito says, a smile making its way to his face.

Shinichi snorts. “You're late, damn thief.”

“Sorry, sorry, I'll make it up to you~!” the magician laughs.

Kaito doesn't miss the ridiculous smile on Shinichi’s face.

(But, then again, Kaito probably looks the same.)

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, loves!


End file.
